


where no one can see

by Kalgalen



Series: O.B.E.Y. [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen
Summary: Step One: don't make out with the enemy in the back of your patrol car just because she looks really pretty tonight and you wouldn't mind looking at her from up close(step one failed)





	where no one can see

**Author's Note:**

> another small thing for that au I've been playing around with? from the Good Guys™ point-of-view this time!

Isabel Lovelace doesn’t date criminals. It’s not hard to guess why; when you’re a cop, you tend to avoid doing anything that could get you kicked out of the force, and  _my girlfriend runs with a gang_  is definitely one of them. Hell,  _my girlfriend used to deal drugs_  would probably be enough to seriously hinder Isabel’s progression in the ranks, and she’s  _hindered_  enough as it is by her gender - and the color of her skin.

_Be a big girl. Trust your gut. Don’t date criminals._

…What if her gut tells her to give in to the advances of one of the Outsiders’ lieutenants? What is she supposed to do, then?

Rachel had told Isabel to call her  _Miss Young_  the first time they’d met, in a voice so dripping with condescension and fake sweetness that Isabel had just stared at her in displeasure for the rest of their encounter while her partner took over. Rachel looks like a mob boss’ arm candy, or a high-end escort, or a business major who chose to specialize in crime. Rachel is small, and the heels she wears at all times should feel like she’s overcompensating, but only serve to make her look like she wouldn’t hesitate to grind your trachea under one of them if worse came to worst.

But above all, Rachel is very, very pretty. Especially when she’s straddling Isabel’s lap, breathlessly looking down at her as if Isabel is a really tasty meal Rachel is about to swallow whole - which, eh. Might still happen, if Isabel doesn’t suddenly remember that they’re on different sides of the law and should put an end to it.

(Does getting frisky in the back of a police car counts as fraternizing with the enemy? Asking for a friend.)

Rachel bites her own bottom lip and swipes a thumb at the corner of her mouth, only managing to smear her lipstick a bit more. Isabel’s breath catches in her throat; her hands tighten on Rachel’s hips. Rachel smiles wolfishly and presses a kiss against Isabel’s temple while her left hand wraps around Isabel’s neck, long sharp nails trailing against skin. Isabel shivers, slides her hands higher, up up  _up_  under Rachel’s ridiculous spiked leather jacket, turns her head for a kiss -

\- and almost jumps out of her skin when two sharp knocks rattle the window on her right.

“Oh fuck!” Isabel says.

“Oops,” Rachel says, still firmly seated on her lap.

“What are you  _doing?_ ” Renée says, a bit muffled by the glass but wearing that frown of mixed disappointment and disapproval she usually keeps for her brother.

Isabel tries to shove Rachel off her, and the mobster resists for a second before letting herself be pushed aside. Isabel scrambles with the handle and steps out of the car, wiping at her mouth as inconspicuously as possible to erase any traces of lipstain (it’s a lost cause and she knows it; Rachel is very peculiar about buying overpriced makeup that can resist anything short of,  _maybe_ , a nuclear apocalypse. Isabel believes she enjoys marking her territory.)

Renée opens her mouth to speak, but then her eyes slide around Isabel to land somewhere behind her back, and her expression turns even more sour.

“Do you mind?” she hisses. “This is a police vehicle!”

Isabel risks a glance back; in the seat she’s occupying like a throne, Rachel has lit up a cigarette and is currently blowing lazy smoke rings toward the ceiling. At Renée’s intervention, she looks up at her and delicately takes the cigarette away from her mouth.

“Oh, really? I’m sorry, it must have escaped me,” she says, in a tone that makes it clear she’s absolutely not sorry, and might have even done it on purpose.

Then, still staring straight at Renée, she takes another drag of the cigarette before dropping the rest of it on the carpeted floor and crushing it under her heel. Renée makes a small scandalized sound. Isabel tries not to make any sound at all, because anything coming out of her mouth right now would most likely be  _very_  incriminating.

“Well, girls-” Rachel slides out of the car, very deliberately grabbing on Isabel’s arm to help herself up. “That was fun, but I do have a business to help running. You haven’t heard that from me, though.” She drops a loud kiss on Isabel’s cheek and gives a little wave at Renée as she saunters off down the neon-lit street, leaving two befuddled officers behind her. After a minute or two, Renée asks:

“What- was that?”

“Rachel Young.”

“Yes, I know this, but why was she here? Making out with you in the backseat of  _our_  patrol car, no less! You’re as bad as Doug.”

“Well, I take offense in that,” Isabel grouches. “And Rachel wanted to talk about some stuff concerning the uh, activity in the area.”

“Giving you insider’s tips about the Outsiders?”

“Of course not. She has like, sold her soul to whoever is leading them. It was just some stuff about the rival gangs operating around, messing with their sector, that kind of things. And-” she hesitates, and Renée crosses her arms.

“And?”

“Stuff- became more… personal?” Then, remembering what led to her being alone to be approached by a dangerous gang member in the first place, she asks accusingly: “What were  _you_  doing, anyway? You just looked at your phone and said “I need a minute” and took off! What was  _that_  about?”

It’s Renée’s turn to look bashful, uncrossing her arms to fiddle with the hem of one of her sleeves.

“It was- I had to take an important call. From someone with the press who needed- details about the- the robbery case from last Saturday.”

Isabel smirks. She’s found her out.

“Oh, I see. Did he also ask for another private meeting? I heard there’s a really nice restaurant on-”

“It’s strictly professional!” Renée shrieks, tomato red. She breathes in deeply, signs. “Alright, you win. Let’s- forget this all ever happened, hm?”

Isabel laughs.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”


End file.
